Fine. I’m sure it would probably smell the entire time, but I guess you’re gonna have to take me there yourself, then. I gotta see it to believe it.
- Will
My whole body tenses as I read and reread the words in his email. He wants to meet? Like… in person? Like… face-to-face? Or was that just an expression?
I can’t be too surprised, though, right? I mean, we were probably going to meet anyways. Our paths are bound to cross any day now, given our work. It’s just a matter of time until Lena decides I’m ready to go to an in-person client meeting or the same happens for Will. From what he tells me, we both work for difficult bosses (although I’m not quite sure yet who his exact supervisor is). Neither one of them are the easiest people to get along with. Still, it won’t be long until we’re in the same room at the same time, and after weeks of talking, it might be weird if our first interaction is in front of other people. Especially since things have turned a little flirty.
Or maybe it’s just my imagination. Even a bit of wishful thinking, if I’m being honest with myself.
I chew on my bottom lip, fingers hovering over my phone screen, searching not only for the right words, but for what I truly want from this friendship. Should Icarpethe hell out of thisdiemor keep this distance and let our relationship progress professionally? Or isthisthe natural progression of it all?
Just as I click into the message box to reply, however, my phone buzzes again. This time with a text from Lena.
Lena
Need you in the office ASAP. And get me two extra hot flat whites and a warmed coffee cake.
Phew.Saved by Crazy Pants.
* * *
“I can’t haveyou lose focus on the Stevenson account, Bridget. I know you’re just an associate, but youdoperform vital tasks to this project.” Lena sits behind her desk, arms folded in front of her, her eyes pinning me to my seat. “I know we started off slow, working what some would callreasonablehours. But things are getting choppy with the client. This is our first season ever with them, and if things don’t go to plan, we might lose them altogether.”
I suppress a sigh because I know what she’s telling me: no more of that same work/life balance I was just thanking my lucky stars for. And while that may suck, in its own way, it’s actually amazing. It means Lena needs me. It means that she’s going to be giving me more responsibility. I shouldn’t be surprised, to be honest. After all, she did start including me in the emails. Like she said, I perform vital tasks. I am anessentialmember of the team. I need to be on call to bring her food when she needs it.
Sigh.
“I’m going to need you to be flexible about hours; I’ll need you to get my coffee and lunches most days since I’ll be stuck to my chair, working. Of course, you’ll have to continue handling my calendar and scheduling.”
“Oh,” I say, deflating a bit. I already perform those duties as an assistant sometimes, but is she referring to doing themallthe time? “I thought…” But I trail off, not knowing how to proceed.
She raises a brow. “You thought what, exactly?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. I just… I thought you needed me to be more involved in a direct way.”
Lena purses her lips and sits back in her chair. “And what exactly do you think you’d be able to bring to the table, Bridget? Besides the past three months of work you’ve done here, you have no experience whatsoever doing this kind of work. Frankly, we hired you in a moment of desperation because I needed an assistant quickly as the Stevenson account was fast-approaching and your friend Molly gave you a personal referral. Right now, you’re nothing more than a blank slate. You will have zero input on anything. Your job is to keep me informed and the other teams in line.”
I try to control the stinging behind my eyes, tears threatening to make a very unwelcome appearance. Something about Lena tells me that she wouldn’t take too well to someone crying in her office (though the same instinct tells me she’s no stranger to it, either).
In a surprising turn of events, however, Lena’s eyes soften—infinitesimally, but still. “You’re notyoungyoung, but youaregreen. New to this industry. I can’t trust you yet. You haven’t done anything to prove that I can. And this project is too risky for me to let you take on any big responsibilities on a leap of faith. Can you understand that?”
I press my lips together and nod, too scared to open my mouth and say something for fear of letting her hear my voice break. With a nod toward her office door, she dismisses me.
I dash through the office floor, looking for somewhere to hide so I can break down where no one can see me. The bathrooms would be a logical choice, but the risk of someone finding me mid-breakdown is too high.
On a whim, I decide to spend the next few minutes of my work day crying in the sample closet—a nice, dark place filled with awesome clothes, each one so beautiful it helps to settle my nerves.
I sit in the corner of the walk-in, hidden behind a rack of ballgowns, and put my face in my hands as I cry. I consider texting Molly to ask her to meet me back here so I can vent, but she’s made it clear that she doesn’t trust my ability to keep this job—at least not 100%.Just like Lena.
For a moment, I allow myself to be sad, to absorb the situation. I’m gutted I got my hopes up thinking Lena was opening the door for me to receive more responsibilities, to give me more autonomy over certain duties that fall under my role, but at least I still have a job. I’ve never held one down this long, and for that, I need to be thankful. And she just told me what I needed in order to get to where I want: earn her trust; prove my worth. So I’m sure I can get there.
When my phone vibrates in my pocket, I pull it out immediately praying for a positive distraction.
From:
To:
Subject: A case of the Tuesdays
